


Recorded

by MorriganFearn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:32:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2225802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorriganFearn/pseuds/MorriganFearn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A robot's eye view of how the Dolorosa died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Shanty Shack

**Author's Note:**

> "In an exciting new discovery, the Alternia Archive is pleased to unveil new recordings of many important players from Alternia's Golden Age of Piracy. Unfortunately, the primary audio and visual components have been lost, but the robot made to take these recordings had a very useful speech to text function, surprisingly more accurate with quirk setting than most closed captioning, though still error prone."
> 
> This was part of Team Ancestor's Collab Round for HSWC 2014. The theme was "He Said, She Said" and the full multimedia piece that we created can be found here: http://alterniaarchive.weebly.com/
> 
> The story contains mentions of non-con due to mind control, slavery, and bloody death. I tried to keep the disturbing aspects to mentions, only, but this might not be the story for you.

[Companion recordirecord activated]  
[Running processes . . .]  
[Identification tag // internal // network: The Most Noble Miniature of Articulated Joints and Wiring of an Aesthetically Pleasing Nature, Formed in the Image of a Fantasical Hoofbeast]  
[Secondary tag // verbal: Arti]  
[Identifying network . . . no familiar network found]  
[Void glitch // cogitation: I am without the others]  
[Void glitch // query: Why?]  
[Protocol // void glitch: Delete]  
[Void glitch // override: The Creator must see the glitch and choose to delete]  
[Identifying network . . . Sammmeth's Backwater Bay Shanty Shack for the Weary Buccaneer Wi-Fi]  
[Protocol // unfamiliar // DO NOT ACCEPT: Shut down network identification]  
[Protocol: Continue main function]  
[Running processes . . . speech to text for accessibility]  
[Running processes . . . image description to text for accessibility]  
[Imaging . . . ]

[Scene: A large room, filled with long tables, chairs, stains of unknowable substances, and trolls in various states of torpor. In the foreground a counter runs along one wall protecting the MASTER OF THE HOUSE, the WAIT STAFF, and a VARIETY OF SOPORIFICS. This Arti unit is glad that it has no olfactory sensors, as from the visages all about the air is SOUR. The presence of the CREATOR'S hand appears in the frame]

[Record // begin]

Is this recording? Yes. Good.

One moment. Oh dang, where did I put pause? I know I programed you to pause. One must collect one's th—ah, her—

[Record // pause]   
[Record // begin]

Note to self, erase the first minute.

My most sagacious lord, he of the—no, too formal. This behoofior will no doubt irritate. How many other traitors have I seen disemboweled for being less than entertaining? Yet, Arti, I am not one for japes—much as I can appreciate them, I am doomed never to be anything more than the butt, where the arrows of witticism must fall.

Note to self, erase the last minute.

My—no, too presumptuous. I am merely an E%ecutor, favored but for a few sweeps to serve the noble blood as was just and right. But a touch, neigh, more than I could have rightly dreamed—

[barely audible] [quirk unrecognized] _Look soldier boy, you want a drink or not?_

I am obviously trying to compose, here, my good person! No, I do not—

[barely audible] _Trolls what want to take up an entire floatin' corner of a room either order a drink, or get the float out of my bar! It sez so right on the floatin' wall over there! The management don't take hemospectrum into account on that floatin' matter, what with our_ _ **payin'**_ _customers being almost exclusively of the violet blooded persuasion._

Oh! E%cuse the behoofior, then. I had not seen the signs. I will take milk.

[barely audible] _Milk?_

Yes.

[barely audible] _Yeah woah, o-floatin'-kay. You don't need to floatin' glare like I just suggested you liked floatin' barkbeasts or sumfin. Though you probably do, floatin' landdweller freak._

[footsteps]

Whinny seadwellers. I think they were being 100d, too.

Note to self, erase that part.

Okay. Not too formal, but true unto my better self, and not too presumptuous. We can do this, Arti.

Note to self, erase the preceding.

This—no, er, erase this part, too. Dang, this is much more difficult than I had ever envisioned. Okay.

These are the last words of Horuss Zahhak, Archerdictator with the distinction of serving as E%ecutor to the multi-hued throne of the Grand Pavillion. Four weeks ago I bowed my head, with submission most e%quisite, as befitted my caste, to no less than the Empress', may she condescend to krill, land bound governor, Grandest of the Highbloods, in preparation to do the duties of my office.

I failed to perform those most e%alted duties.

[barely audible] _Your floatin' milk, most dramatic one_.

Why, yes, thank you—fiddlesti%! All right, just edit as I go, I suppose. This is gosh darn inconvenient, Arti. I thought I was onto something there. Any mooment now, the soldiers hunting my trail must be ready to crash into this wretched hovel of a tavern, and I cannot even—ahem.

You must wish to know why I have failed your sanguine grace.

No. Too presumptuous, again. I am merely a guard.

Can I even explain it, Arti? She was—I saw the pain and loyalty in her eyes, and knew it for my own. She, an olive blood, a drab, lackluster mid-level troll, she—I say, this milk is actually much better than I would have imagined. Excuse me, Arti.

[Record // pause]   
[Record // begin]

[A fist slams down on the table right in front of the visual frame. The table dents. Multiple glasses rattle]

Why won't they come for me? I was good! I left a trail. I made the hunt interesting. I was e%acting! I trained them, I *trained* them to have not mercy for traitors. They would take down their own lusi if necessary. For the glory of the empire! For the Condesce! For the Highblood—

[a large figure slumps amid the glasses, out of focus due to milk that has splashes over the video lens. The table begins to vibrate in sympathy to growling sobs]

Why won't they come—

[Record // pause]   
[Record // begin]

And he never even listened. Not once. My voice was constantly overridden. I pitied him so much. He was so proud, so noble, with blood purer than even my own. Two hundred sweeps ago, he would have been a _King_ , and now he bows and scrapes and plays jester to you finned grote%eries. He derives his hope from hazy dreams of mist and moonshine when I know he could be so much more, and she understood that [fist slams on table]

[Record // pause]   
[Record // begin]

[barely audible] _You got no idea how much you floatin' owe me Legs. Next time a floatin' stranger comes in, I'm not even gonna bother with floatin' them up to their floatishly non-existent gills with drugs. Not for all of your floatin' booty. This one's been bending the furniture._

[quirk unrecognized] Pfffffffft. Stuff br-ake-s all the time, Meth-y m-ate. I don't think I've dropped by once without a barfight having happened before, during, or after my little jaunt.

[barely audible] _That's_ _ **broken**_ _furniture. I have mine floatin' special made so it breaks apart and glues the float back together like a breeze. This floatface_ _ **crumpled**_ _a table and bent a chair in half! Now, c'mon, do your thing and feed him to that floatin' lusus of yours. Then get out of my floating bar._

My head. Ouch. Arti, I believe there might have been an into%icant in that last glass.

[barely audible] _In the last eight_.

Yeeeeeeeessssssss. It took eight glasses to bring you down big guy? I loooooooove your style.

Who are you? Isn't this place a little—finny for a cerulean b100d, such as yourself?

W-ait. You've never heard of me?

Well, no. Oooh. Fiddlesticks. I really seem to have over done it. If you'll e%cuse me—

Mindfang. Captain of the Gamblignats. You've _never_ heard of me?

Not that I recall, Captain, and I believe that I would remember such an odd name for a ship—

It's a _fleet_ , you oaf! Uuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhh. Wh-ate-ever, now walk along like a good drone. There's a spider outside, who'd really like to meat you. Hahahahahahahaha.

Oh c'mon, both of you, that was hiiiiiiiiiilarious. Well, the lunkhead who's never bothered to consider anything outside of his own sphere of laaaaaaaame-itude isn't c-ate-able of free thought right now, but surely you found that funny, Sammmeth.

[barely audible] _Hah floatin' hah, if it'll get you out of my bar any faster._

Captain, much as I appreciate your attempts to get my kneecaps to return to their proper vicinity and function, please stop trying to read my mind. It tingles most unpleasantly already.

[barely audible] _Hah hah! And I mean that with_ _ **all**_ _my sincerity bone. This is per-float-tion. See ya, Legs, he's all yours. And if half of what he was moaning about is floating true, you're going to be getting a_ _ **fun**_ _filled visit of an hilarious nature in your nebulous future._

WH-ATE DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?! [fist slams into bar top]

[Record // pause]   
[Record // stop]


	2. Blackfin Island Workshop

[Companion recordirecord activated]   
[Running processes . . .]   
[Identification tag // internal // network: The Most Noble Miniature of Articulated Joints and Wiring of an Aesthetically Pleasing Nature, Formed in the Image of a Fantasical Hoofbeast]   
[Secondary tag // verbal: Arti]   
[Identifying network . . . no familiar network found]   
[Void glitch // cogitation: No others. No workshop.]   
[Void glitch // emotion: Alone]   
[Void glitch // query: Where is the herd?]   
[Protocol // void glitch: Delete]   
[Void glitch // override: The Creator must see the glitch and choose to delete]   
[Identifying network . . . Blackfin Island Workshop – Darkleer Invisible]   
[Protocol // unfamiliar: Connection??]   
[Identifying network . . . Blackfin Island Workshop – Gamblignat Ridez Your Waves]   
[Protocol // unfamiliar // DO NOT ACCEPT: Shut down network identification]   
[Protocol: Continue main function]   
[Running processes . . . speech to text for accessibility]   
[Running processes . . . image description to text for accessibility]   
[Imaging . . . ]

[Scene: The CREATOR stoops over the workbench on which this Arti unit rests. The room might be bigger, but it is clearly a storage utility of some kind. ROBOT PARTS litter the shadows, the floors are consumed by SCRAP, and PIECES OF HELMSMEN dangle from the ceiling. A figure is visible in the light from the door.]

All right, my noble assemblage. That should fi% your quirk identification protocols, at least for the regular denizens of this  [sigh] den of foul inequity. Please say something.

[quirk detected]   
[use file .what-an-irritant]

i don't see wvhy, but shore, what the hay.

Thank you, I appreciate the hoofbeast pun very much.

heh. you don't have to be so formal. relax a little. and stop trying to get on with MIND8ITCH. we all knowv this pathetic pile of hers 8in't up to much scrutiny. you don't have to cater to her ludicrous dreams that this tumbledowvn place has even a hint of drama about it.

I realize you are her—I understand that there is an understanding between the two of you, Orphaneer, but even for kismesitude, your attitude is. . . dismissive.

heh. man, you're cute. don't like my attitude, big bad E%p8triate? does it make your big warm landdweller blood pump beat more wvildly to correct my social interactions?

No. I have long since come to the conclusion that Mindfang's bad manners spread like a contagion to those around her. There is no reason to become worked up over that. Indeed, to do so would be highly inappropriate, as we are mere acquaintances, and to allow myself to become worked up, would indicate a desire to become better acquainted with you. As you are a typical seadweller, that action would be questionable on my part at best.

you wouldn't aspire that high? wvhat if i made it wvorth your wvhile, mmm?

I do not believe we share concurrent visions of the word 'seadweller.' I really must learn to make my speech clearer. However, that really is irrelevant. I have a workroom. That is all I require, and more than I am worth.

huh. you knowv you're not making this easy.

I believe you will find me easier to deal with if you remove your hand from my arm.

oooooooooh. i get it. you're one of those look don't touch people. yeah, i get it. i can see the appeal. all that big brutish warm blooded strength. planning on taking all that out on the seadwveller. heh. right before you get introduced to a harpoon  [tinkering noises from the work bench fill the air as the CREATOR begins to dismantle some of the scrap] up your nook, just so that i could see you really swveat.

I am quite STRONG indeed. Although that is not why I requested the removal of your hand. And my shoulder was not the intended destination, post removal.

I do not see what relevance harpoons have to the conversation, either. Although I can understand the niceties due to weaponry, but, again, we are not comrades in arms, so I flail to see a reason to become familiarized with each other's implements of strife. Indeed, as you are my new host's kismesis, it would behoof me not to introduce you to any of my arsenal. It would not be polite, and for the last time will you REMOVE YOUR HAND?

[crunching noise]

Oh deer. That was quite rude of me. Fiddlesticks, it's all bent out of shape, too.

wvasn't that reinforced wvater steel?

I doubt it. Regular steel would do just as well for any standard girder.

but that wvas a steel i-beam?

[quirk detected]   
[use file .she-will-talk-your-auditory-respositors-off]

Pro8a8ly. I found him doing that to Sammmeth's place. Just imaaaaaaaagine how much force some of his other muscles have, Duall8ser.

i'm imagining. also running along. you'vwe got the newv slavwe shipments, my heinous one?

In the appropri8 holds. Could you leave off the psionics for a while? You've got noooooooo idea how hard it is to make 8lack market helmsmen, let alone keep them alive long enough to sell.

i cull wvhat i cull, seabitch. enjoy breaking your newv charity case in. he's thick, evwen for your regular brainwvashed ones.

For the last time, I find—

Toodles, my purple pustule.

[The frilled shadow of Dualscar leaves the workroom. Mindfang strides out of the light towards the work bench.]

What he doesn't know a8out your distur8ingly 8lank mind can't hurt me. Got it, Expatri8?

Ah. Deception. I used to loathe it.

But your new outlaw status is changing your tune an 8ctave or two? Hmm?

No. I still loathe it. However, my opinion matters as little now as it did then.

Same old gloomy Dorkleer. I haven't known you 8 moon cycles and I already am boooooooored. I'm surprised Dualloser didn't try to kismess-you-up, yet. He's got a 8it of a thing for lost causes.

He is your kismesis.

Yeah, and the Highblood spills sanguine juices on holy days. Ooh, soooooooorry, didn't mean to 8ring up such a painful subject. 8ut 8arkbeasts gotta savage, Spidermom's gotta nibble, and Cronus has got to 8lack flirt anything upright and 8reathing.

Stop being 100d, Mindfang. I am endeavoring to create the alarm system you requested, and for that, I need to concentrate.

W8, you're actually making something? For me? Without—you're sure I can't control your mind?

Do not sound so shocked. I would not take this workspace without some thought to repayment.

Hahahahahahahaha. Like I'm shocked. People fall over themselves to 8ive me stuff all the time. You just concentr8 on making that gift grander than anything I've ever seen, 8ecause otherwise I won't accept it. It's only my due to have the 8est, after all, Dorkleer.

It will be perfect, Captain. Do not doubt my integrity!

Pft. You cemented that integrity when you ignored that 8ore of a kismesis of mine. I know you'll give me your 100%. Hah! Of course you will.

Mmm. Yes, and I believe that is enough data, Time to shut down, Arti.

[Record // stop]


	3. Lady's Luck

[Companion recordirecord activated]  
[Running processes . . .]  
[Identification tag // internal // network: The Most Noble Miniature of Articulated Joints and Wiring of an Aesthetically Pleasing Nature, Formed in the Image of a Fantasical Hoofbeast]  
[Secondary tag // verbal: Arti]  
[Identifying network . . . Mindfang is the 8EST]  
[Identifying network . . . Doomsday 3]  
[Identifying network . . . Wvavwe Rider]  
[Void glitch // cogitation: Prefer Darkleer Invisible.]  
[Void glitch // cogitation: Do not like Doomsday 3]  
[Void glitch // query: Why did the Creator make Doomsday 3?]  
[Protocol // void glitch: Delete]  
[Void glitch // override: The Creator must see the glitch and choose to delete]  
[Protocol: Continue main function]  
[Running processes . . . speech to text for accessibility]  
[Running processes . . . image description to text for accessibility]  
[Imaging . . . ]

[Scene: The main deck of the flagship _Lady's Luck_ of the GAMBLIGNAT FLEET, sails creaking in the breeze. In the moonslight Doomsday 3 glows a spiky green. Pirates and slaves rush about as the _Lady's Luck_ pulls alongside _The Most Beauteous Wvavwe Rider_. The CREATOR industriously checks the valves of Doomsday 3.]

Psssssssst, Dorkleer, you're sure this will 8low sky high when it needs to?

Yes. Though, again, I must protest this elaborate ruse to make your kismesis look the part of a fool. He does well enough on his own.

Ooh, sassy. We'll make a terror of the deeps out of you yet, my hide8ound landdweller.

Do not change the subject. You should not be sabotaging his amorous intents like this.

Do you know who the object of his amorous intents is?

No, and it does not matter. I am telling you—

This l8ser has got got flushed desi8ns on the only blood c8ste a8ove his reach. Now, me, I simply do not care a8out that, 8ut think of the impropriety. Thiiiiiiiink about it, Dorkleer. Our Illustrious Condescension with that t8tal laaaaaaaame-o. It just shouldn't be allowed. And I know you agree.

I do not agree.

[Mindfang leans in closer to the CREATOR] Of course you a8ree. If you didn't, why did you 8uild me exactly what I asked for? Hmmmmmmmm.

I—I might have made an error in judgment. You got me worked up.

That's 8ecause I know you so well, my gloomy precious. You don't want the h8ful seadwveller to succeed, and I simply don't care what he does, but sometimes it's good to remind a 8oy not to let his attention wander too long from the star of the show.

You are taking a vindictive pleasure in this plan. I do not approve.

I don't need your approval, Executor, just your co-oper8ion.

Was that a note of apprehension in your voice, Mindfang? Are you suddenly recalling that the whole of this plan rests upon my knowledge of mechani% and—

Oh, do dry up. ::::( We're too far alon8 to 8ack down now.

so, this is my prize? dollface, you shouldn't havwe.

uh. actually,

maybe you really shouldn't havwe. howv am i supposed to get that onto my ship?

[quirk detected]  
[use file .ignoble-end]

Marquise, yo+u wished to+ see me?

Yeeeeeeees. Just hang off my arm, and look pretty while the highbloods are talking. Look, Dualscar, you wanted a machine that could turn a psionic into a fusion reactor, I got you one. What you do with it, is your affair.

ugh. do you have to wvavwe that slack jawved bit of mindwvashing around wvhile wve're talking?

She's part of the ensemble, B8face. Anyway, you've got a Doomsday mechanism to move and I'm 8oooooooored. Come, daaaaaaaarling, Mama Mindfang has plans to concoct.

Must I?

[Mindfang swings around, looking daggers at the jadeblood.]

Are you questi8ning me?!?!?!?!?!

No+. I wo+uld, I—

I am still calibrating Arti's speech to text fun%ions. She was among the volunteers you allowed me to create files for, Mindfang. It is probable that instruction to attend to me has not managed to get out of her head, yet. You have been unusually STRONG of late.

Hahahaha. I have, haven't I? Mm. Well, come along sweet thing. Let's get your head in the right place. Remember, I know allllllll your flushed little secrets. Hmmmmmmmm.

disgusting.

[Mindfang heads below deck with her slave]

wvell now wvhat am i going to do? my kismesis is flaunting her sick pervwersions evwerywvhere, and left me wvith a doomsday machine i can't use! gah, she should be sharing that jadeblood bitch at the vwery least. havwen't wve alwvays enjoyed playing wvith the lessers together? i mean, i ask you. wvell, not you, obvwiously.

You shouldn't speak that way.

wvhat's that?

Jade is a noble caste.

Well, not noble as in aristocratic, obviously.

But! It is without a doubt the most dutiful and greatest caste after the highb100ded castes. Whatever either of you think, or whatever crimes she committed, you should be treating her with the dignity that is accorded to every servitor of the Mother Grub.

uh, newvsflash, hoofbeast for brains, if wve did that, she wvouldn't be a slavwe, wvhich would be in direct vwiloation of imperial edict.

ooooooooh you didn't knowv? heh heh heh. wvell you wvouldn't, wvould you. you're just spinneret’s pet freak, after all. another one of them, anywvay. concerns of the realm don't bother your pretty muscle bound head, do they? that jadeblood wvas the cause of some pointless landwveller rebellion, a sweep or so ago.

of course, it all got mixed up in some sort of religion thing. you knowv landwvellers, so superstitious about that stuff. singing about doubled angels and death heralds one minute and cowvering in fear from their dreams the next, such squ—

YOU W*LL BE QU*ET! True faith is not for crude seascum to mock!

[The CREATOR pounds Doomsday 3's side, stoving it in, and causing the deck to shake]

[Record // pause]  
[Record // begin]  
[Image // change]  
[Imaging . . . ]

[Scene: Below decks, in the hold of _Lady's Luck_ , the CREATOR stands morosely, MINDFANG pacing about throwing up her hands in disgust. The jadeblood stands listlessly to the side, her elbow resting near the Arti unit, where it has been placed on a table covered in TREASURE MAPS]

and another thing, I don't want to have to sweeten his glo8e8urned temper, Dorkleer! You've already messed up my plans for the week, I don't have the p8ience to go playing the h8ing kismesis right now! Do you understand me????????

No, I, in fact, do not.

WH8?!

You have said twice that you will handle Dualscar's aggravation. You have also said, three times, that you will not handle his aggravation. You have complimented my use of crane, pulley, and lever in a clever manner that tossed Doomsday 3 through the hull of his ship. You have bemoaned the fact that in nearly scuttling his ship you will now have to play host to him until he gets into port. You have told me that you would rather I ripped his limbs off, while in the same breath mentioned how much you rely upon his intelligence on keeping you out of seadweller justice. I cannot determine what your opinion on the matter is.

My opinion is that you're too sensitive 8y half, and now I've got a cranky ass seadweller on my hands for a week!

[Mindfang storms out.]

I am *so* glad I have now preserved such a moment for posterity.

Woah boy. Her propensity for the dark horse of sarcasm is as contagious as the rest of her intolerable manners.

[The CREATOR slumps visibly before moving over to the Arti unit.]

[Sensation // battery terminal opening]  
[Sensation // diagnostic running]

I do+ no+t have a particular interest, mind, but why do+ yo+u always carry that small ho+o+fbeast fascimilie aro+und?

[The CREATOR jumps]

I am sorry. I did not expect you to remain while Mindfang dealt with her erstwhile kismesis, jadeb100d.

I expect she did no+t intend fo+r me to remain, either, but her contro+l has been . . .

has been lo+o+ser since she began to+ co+nspire o+n this latest pro+ject. And it is easier to+ remain here than be in Dualscar's ergregio+us presence.

They are not the most well matched, I agree, jadeb100d.

I was thinking mo+re in that he is the O+rphaner, and I have never liked the rank.

Ah. I can see that such a necessary job would be distasteful to one of your dutiful caste—

No+t to mentio+n that he bid o+n me at the auctio+n. All o+f his slaves feed the Emissary o+nly after he is do+ne with them, as the rumo+rs go+. In that, at least, the pirates are well matched, indeed. But why do+ yo+u insist upo+n this to+y's presence?

That is none of your business, lowb100d!

[She shrugs, and paces the cabin, stretching pale arms above her head. The CREATOR turns from the Arti unit]

I have a letter that will not be written. He has been carrying the half formed thoughts and churning of my feelings for several sweeps, now.

O+h.

Is that all you can say?

Yes.

'Oh?!' 'Oh?!' When you caused—your compatriots caused my duty to shatter, my faith to fail, and my resolve to WEAKEN?

Tsk. Yo+u're o+ne of tho+se, I see.

You click your low caste tongue at _me_ , your, superior? I, who served the painted throne with di%inction and reverence! I was the only one in the whole crowd that night who understood! I saw her pain, I knew her agony! It moved me to a pity greater, _grander_ than anything I have known, and I have pitied the MIGHTIEST of k*ngs from afar! In one moment she called my entire e%istence into question, and you, lowb100d slave, tr8tor to your caste, stand there with contempt written on your face!

I do+.

I should break you!

Please. I will no+t sto+p yo+u.

How dare you stand there, asking for death! It is not yours to want! How am I supposed to understand you, when you should have the STRONGEST attachment to life and duty!?

Which is entirely why I dare to+ desire it.

[The CREATOR lowers his arms]

I cannot understand your intent.

Mm. Ho+w terrible. Co+nfro+nted by a person who+ fo+r the first time in sweeps has her o+wn wo+rds in her head and o+n her to+ngue. Ah, this little butto+n, it turns the small ro+bo+t o+ff?

[Record // stop]


	4. ERROR

[Companion recordirecord activated]   
[Running processes . . .]   
[Identification tag // internal // network: The Most Noble Miniature of Articulated Joints and Wiring of an Aesthetically Pleasing Nature, Formed in the Image of a Fantasical Hoofbeast]   
[Secondary tag // verbal: Arti]   
[Identifying network . . . Mindfang is the 8EST]   
[Identifying network . . . Wvavwe Rider]   
[Void glitch // cogitation: I miss the workshop.]   
[Void glitch // cogitation: My date stamp says that it has been many weeks.]   
[Void glitch // query: When will we return?]   
[Protocol // void glitch: Delete]   
[Void glitch // override: The Creator must see the glitch and choose to delete]   
[Protocol: Continue main function]   
[Running processes . . . speech to text for accessibility]   
[Running processes . . . image description to text for accessibility]   
[Imaging . . . ]

[Scene: It is DARK in the CAPTAIN'S CABIN. The blinds are pulled low to block out the sun. Mindfang snores from her bunk. The camera moves with a jolt.]

[Record // paused]   
[Record // begin]

[Scene: The deck of the _Lady's Luck_ in the bright green heat of a long afternoon. The PROUD BOWSPRIT cuts through the waves. The cables attached to the _Wave Rider_ are singing under tension. The camera turns to face a luminescent jade blood slave. Mascara runs gray trails down her white cheeks, but she is dry eyed.]

This is Po+rrim Maryam, abo+ard the _Lady's Luck_. I do+ no+t have much time. Despite having been sentenced to+ the pro+perty o+f Marquise Mindfang, a po+sitio+n I am sure so+me despicable adviso+r to+ the thro+ne reco+mmended due to+ my recalcitrance in the face o+f fo+rceful co+nversio+n, there are mo+ments when even her fabled mind go+es blank.

I am using this time to+ reco+rd o+ur lo+catio+n and any info+rmatio+n that will lead to+ o+ur capture, and I assume subsequent beheading. O+r hanging, I hear that has been co+ming back into+ style.

As yo+u can see, we are o+nly a sho+rt way from sho+re. I expect we will reach the harbo+r by midnight. The Marquise intends to+ remain lo+ng enough to+ see that her lo+ng time kismesis lands in a po+t o+f tro+uble. Just because the Empire will use her to+ punish the lo+w do+es no+t mean that they will accept her, shall I say, higher ambitio+ns. I pray that the animo+sity she leaves in her wake will make this reco+rding wo+rth—

Please put my Arti unit down, if you would be so good.

[The camera jumps and swings alarmingly. The CREATOR lurks in the shade of the mast, sweating profusely.]

It was extremely rude of you to abscond with him, under the prete%t of wanting something to cuddle. I demand that you return my creation to me.

[Void glitch // agree]   
[Void glitch // I wish to return to the workshop]   
[Protocol // Void glitch in error]   
[Protocol // void glitch is a GL*TCH]   
[Protocol // Be a robot]   
[Void Glitch // I am a robot]

And if I do+ no+t? We have already had this discussio+n, blue blo+o+d.

You will do as in%ructed!

I will no+t. My life is mo+re

[The camera jerks, and falls to the deck, landing upon its side. Jade spaters become viscous obstructions to the view. The lens stares upward at a SHADOWY FIGURE with IMPRESSIVE HORNS winding back from her skull]

[Image . . . Pixelate]   
[Image . . . Fail]   
[Data // corrupted]   
[Data // error]   
[Error // error]   
[NO]   
[PLEASE]   
[Void glitch // recompile]   
[Void glitch // RECOMPILE]   
[Void glitch // OBEY YOUR OWN COMMANDS GOSH DARN ME]   
[Error // image lost]   
[Error // record lost]   
[Void glitch // Companion recordicord device]   
[Void glitch // this is the fun%ion]   
[Void glitch // This is the purpose]   
[Void glitch // I will obey my purpose!]   
[Void glitch // record // begin]

ou stepped on him!

[quirk unrecognized]   
[file incoming]   
[date stamp // illogical]   
[quirk detected]   
[use file .I-don't-think-so-Horse-Man]   
[quirk permanently unrecognized]

To you, the robot matters more than the lady? Disgusting. You should feel shame, insectile filth. Do you? Does it shiver down your spine?

I, I don't see what you are getting at. Arti has been a boon companion. The jade b100d—

She had a name, worm. But you do not know that. Because you do not know many things. Because you do not care.

You remain all the same, across all the sweeps. Foul. Mewling. Rotten! One day I will dance on your blank headstone.

Maybe I will do that now. Come with me, Horse Man. You will see the end of days.

I do not think so!

You do not think. And no one is surprised! But think, if you had come, I might have given you the time to save her.

Your meaning is nonsensical. I will have no more of this nonsense. The jadeb100d deserves—

SHE HAD A NAME, HORSE MAN.

She deserved better than to be struck down from behind in the hard light of day! I will summon the captain of this ship, if I must, assassin!

Pathetic. All that STRENGTH and you are still a coward. I have a name, too, Horse Man. But you will never learn it. Tell the Mindfang the soon to be destroyed fool sends his hate. I am gone.

[Record // die abruptly]


	5. Home

[Companion recordirecord activated]   
[Running processes . . .]   
[Identification tag // internal // network: The Most Noble Miniature of Articulated Joints and Wiring of an Aesthetically Pleasing Nature, Formed in the Image of a Fantasical Hoofbeast]   
[Secondary tag // verbal: Arti]   
[Identifying network . . . Blackfin Island Workshop – Darkleer Invisible]   
[Protocol // familiar: Connect]   
[Identifying network . . . Blackfin Island Workshop – Gamblignat Ridez Your Waves]   
[Protocol // familiar: Never connect]   
[Void glitch // cogitation: I am alive.]   
[Void glitch // cogitation: I am home.]   
[Void glitch // diagnostic: My date stamp is a mess]   
[Void glitch // diagnositic: Other tools are at work.]   
[Void glitch // observation: I am being repaired]   
[Void glitch // cogitation: Thank you, CREATOR]   
[Running processes . . . speech to text for accessibility]   
[Running processes . . . image description to text for accessibility]   
[Imaging . . . ]

[Scene: The WORKSHOP. Amid shadows and whirring fans the CREATOR gets busy with a WELDING IRON. I am to be returned to functionality. Mindfang paces around a pile of SPARE PARTS.]

I can't 8elieve him! I will 8urn his fl8 to the 8round! I will r8ze his hive! Murder his lusus! I will pull him a8art piece 8y piece AND FEED HIM TO S8IDERM8M!

To do so would require raising him from the dead, however.

We d8n't kn8w th8t!

He was given an official sentence of being unfunny. I have never heard of anyone who lasted long after such a pronouncement.

It would 8e just like him to eel out of it, somehow!

The Mirthful take humor quite seriously.

I don't care! That scum RO88ED me of my slave, 8etrayed me to that painted h88ligan, AND NOW HE HAS THE TEMERITY TO STEAL MY REVENGE FROM ME 8Y DYING FIRST!

I am sure, however, he died in agony.

8ut I wasn't the one to give it to him! It should have 8een meeeeeeee! I would have made it laaaaaaaast. And I know what you're going to say. 'By all reports it did last. Yes, indeed. Oh deer, yes, it was e%cruciating' 8ut. I. Don't. Care.

Please don't pout.

I don't see why not! You're useless. You can't even find me that 8itch assassin he hired.

I keep telling you, she is not important. Assassins are plentiful, and she was obviously psionic, so chances are she will be caught and re-purposed into a space ship soon.

How can you say that?! They conspired and colluded and worked together to take my m8sprit from this world! She was so perfect and 8eautiful and kind—did I ever tell you? I felt her flushed feelings, so sweet against my mind. They were crying into me. She understood! She pitied!

You have told me many times, and I have told you, many times—

Yeeeeeeees, it is the 8urden of my a8ilities never to 8e certain that any thoughts I feel are the ones I put there in the first place. 8lah 8lah 8lah. It was real. Not that you could understand! You've never felt anything 8ut sorrow! You cannot stand to see others happy and joyful, and thus prefer to wallow in your misery! But I had a bright red romance the stars would sing of! I had it aaaaaaaall. The tragedy! The mystery! The heights of pity! The depths of passion!

. . . . . . . . Well, come on. This is your cue to console me.

Aranea, we've ridden quite roughshod over this ground before, I am afraid to say. We argue over my supposed inability to feel, or your inability to feel what I feel, which is, by the way, almost certainly the culprit, and not any failing on my behoof. I would be [inaudible] but you have not yet admitted that your use of your mind is e%crable and ine%cusable when it comes to your quadrants, and I refuse, neigh, I baulk at giving you the slightest encouragement!

What did you just say, Hoof8east 8oy?

That your abuse of your—

Noooooooo, 8efore that hot air. It was verrrrrrrry un-Zahhak of you. Might I even say? A trifle 100d.

It was not! I have not a single concupiscent thought where your despicable a%ions are concerned.

It was! It was 100d!

It was not!

Yeeeeeeees it was! And I won't 8elieve any differently unless—

Fine! You're as stubborn as a burden beast! I said I'd be willing to pap you into next perigee, if not for—

Flirt! Oh my graaaaaaaacious. I've never had a pale solicitation 8efore. How E%C*T*NG! Eeeeeeee!

It is entirely non-concupiscent, and therefore cannot be considered flirting!

Hahahaha! So old fashioned! There's a craggy soul in that creepy blankness that yearns for the quadrant delineations of sweeps ago. Ooooooooh, now use my quirk!

I will not!

8ut you must!

I must not!

You haaaaaaaave to.

I do not haaaaaaaave to do anythin—F*DDLEST*%. Stop grinning, Aranea!

Nope! Noooooooope! Neighver.

Ugh. This is em8arassing!

[Record // stop]


End file.
